Unknown Reality
by Donatello8696
Summary: Darry Curtis Jr. was gone. Kidnapped at the mere age of three. Though his parents searched for him for nearly a decade, he was gone. But now, 11 years later... "Mrs. Curtis? We've found your son..."
1. Prolouge: Kidnapped

**New story I'm working on. Hope it's good! **

**Don't own The Outsiders (man!). They belong to S.E. Hinton.**

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_Maggie's POV_

I had just turned away from him for one minute.

We were at the park, enjoying the fresh breeze and warmth of a beatiful summer's day. As soon as we got there, Darry let out a delighted giggle and sprinted as fast as he could toward a group of pidgeons resting on the green field, waving his arms widely as they flew higher and higher above him. I walked after him, chuckling to myself. Darry was still giggling as I approached him, running toward the leftover birds that had not taken notice of him until now. Once they were gone, he turned and spotted me.

"Mommy!" he shrieked happily, and he ran, laughing, into my arms. I picked him up and held him with one arm, placing one hand on my stomach. Darry imitated me, placing his hand close to mine, but feeling my stomach all the same.

"Baby coming?" he asked. I turned to him, smiling.

"Yes it is. Very soon. And you, mister," I said, removing my hand from my stomach and digging my fingers in his side. He let out a shriek of laughter and curled away from my hand, resting his head on my shoulder, "will have a little sister or little brother. Doesn't that sound nice?"

Darry nodded, grinning widely. I smiled back and put him down. "Now come on," I said. "Let's enjoy today's nice weather."

He grinned again and ran toward the sandbox while I walked toward the bench underneath the dark shade of the trees. Sighing, I rested my hand on my stomach once more. I was very excited about having another child, as was Darry. He was proud and happy about the idea of him becoming an older sibling.

Closing my eyes and leaning my head back to rest on the top of the bench, I smiled at the memory of the discussion me and Darrel had earlier this week about names for the baby. Playfully, he suggested that if it was a girl, it should be named Lilly. A boy should be named Sodapop.

I laughed and slapped his arm softly. "Sodapop?" I had said. "My goodness Darrel, where do you come up with these ideas? We are not naming a child Sodapop!"

But Darry had been listening in on our conversation and exclaimed that he loved the name Sodapop. They spent the next five minutes trying to convince to keep the name for a boy, if it was one. They didn't have to try; I had already fallen in love with the name.

Pulling myself out of the memory, I glanced at the clock on the side of the park's mini ice cream stand. I was surprised to read that already a half-hour had passed since we arrived. I would have to drop Darry off at Mrs. Mathews while I went to my job soon.

Getting up, I started to go over to the sandbox, only to find Darry wasn't there. Confused at where he could be, I went over to the swings, the merry-go-round, the jungle gym, the fountain...

Nothing.

I was beginning to get frantic. Darry was nowhere to be seen. I began asking the people at the park if they had seen a boy, roughly over three feet, dark-brown hair, wearing an old black shirt and jeans. No one had seen him.

It was until I came to the last person I asked that I reached my breaking point. They had seen a boy fitting Darry's description... walking away from the park with another woman.

I was past the point of crying; tears streaming down my face, I called the police, reporting a kidnapping. After I was finished, I called Darrel at his work.

"Garret's Construction. May I help you?"

"Gar, can you fetch Darrel for me? Something's happened, and I need him over here now."

Garret was an old friend, and he understood from the shakiness and pleading of my voice that something had gone horribly wrong.

"Sure Maggie. I'll get him now."

There was a silence on the phone as Garret went to fetch Darrel. I grew more impatient with every second passing, and gave a start when I heard the phone being picked up again.

"Maggie?" Darrel asked. I began crying again when I heard his voice.

"Darrel," I sobbed, and it took me a while before I could speak again.

"Darry's gone."

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When the time grew nearer to the day my second child would be born, I realized that I didn't want it. I felt as though I were betraying Darry; he had wanted so badly to be an older sibling, to have someone to take care of. And now he would never have that chance. It was only four months ago when he had be kidnapped.

However, after a long endurance of the painful pregnancy, when they handed me my new son...

I couldn't do it.

I couldn't get rid of this child. I fell in love with him as soon as I looked at him.

Now, cradling my newborn son in my arms, tears escaped from my eyes at the name Darry had wanted so badly for his new little brother to be named.

"Hello Sodapop," I whispered, rocking him gently. Sodapop gave me a toothless grin and half-gurgled, half-laughed. He loved his name too. I smiled through my tears; he reminded me so much of Darry at his birth.

I let out a quiet sob, and hugged Soda close, rocking him and holding him protectively, my body shaking with the sobs that I had tried so hard to hide for four months.

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**Hey guys! Yes, I've decided to write a new story. It doesn't mean that the others are going to be forgotten! I just needed something fresh.  
So anyway, tell me what you think. Was it good? Bad? Crappy? Weirdly (but it happens often for me), I was on the verge of tears myself when I wrote this. Not saying that anyone else would, but it would really help my self esteem if people are feeling the way my stories are supposed to be making them feel!  
Anywhooo... constructive critisism is welcomed, advice most definitely, but please no flames! Really have a problem with those!**


	2. Remember

"Mommy!"

I walked around the slide, watching my son. Soda climbed up to the top of the ladder and looked down at me, grinning widely. I stopped at the bottom of the slide, waiting.

"Count, Mommy, count!" He shouted down at me happily. I chuckled softly.

"Okay Soda. On three, okay?" He nodded eagerly and was practically bouncing in his place. "One..." He positioned himself, sitting down at the top of the slide. "Two..." Soda giggled, hands ready to push himself down. "Three!" With a shriek of laughter, Soda lightly pushed himself down the slide, right into my waiting arms. Laughing, I picked him up and swung him around once. He kept shouting at the top of his lungs, "Dija see, Momma, dija see?! I did it!"

"You sure did, honey," I said.

That's when I felt the kick.

On instinct, I looked down and had my hand on my stomach before I even knew what I was doing. Soda saw this. He stared at my stomach, curiousity filling his face. Then, he laid his hand beside mine, wanting to feel what I felt.

I blinked. A familiar sense of deja-vu hit me, and I remembered that day three years ago. That awful day.

There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about our son, Darry, and how I had just let him slip through my fingers. The police had quit the case a while back. There wasn't enough for them to go by on. I hated them for that. They just gave up on my son, just like that. I can still remember when he would cry at night and I would come and rub his back soothingly until he fell asleep. I remember his laugh. Hell, I remember my laugh whenever he would glare at my husband so seriously if he acted too careless when I had been pregnant with Soda. Those seemed to be the times of care-free problems and laughter, I suppose.

"Wha-wazit, Momma?" Soda's tiny voice broke through my memories. I looked at him, then looked down at my stomach.

"That's the baby, honey," I said quietly. Soda blinked.

"Baby?" he asked. I nodded.

"Yeah, Soda. You're going to have a new little brother or sister very soon," I said, adjusting my hold on Soda, heaving him up my waist a little bit higher.

Soda brightened. "'Eally?"

I brought him closer, burying my face in his hair. A wall of blurred tears had blocked my vision.

"Yeah, baby." I waited until the tears were fought back into my eyes before I looked at him again. "You're going to be a big brother. Real soon."

Soda grinned, clearly imagining himself being an older, dependable figure to an unknown child that was going to be his younger sibling. I knew the look in his eyes well. Lord knows I've seen it in Darry's eyes plenty.

Without thinking, I looked over at the sandbox, where I'd last seen him. It was empty, as was the rest of the park, but I could still see Darry running toward it, smiling after being told his sibling was coming in only a few short months...

Then he just disappeared, without even knowing his little brother, or the new baby that was coming now.

I felt the familiar sting in my eyes that I had been feeling for the past three years, and lifted Soda higher on my waist.

"Alright, Soda. You wanna go home and help Daddy with the new baby's room?" I asked with as much control as I could possible muster. I could feel Soda's excitement radiating from his body and he grinned even wider.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah!" he said, bouncing with excitement in his place. I allowed myself to laugh.

"Okay, honey." I nodded and put him down, grabbing his hand.

As we walked out of the park, I tried not to notice that my walking speed was faster than usual and my grip on Soda's hand was slightly tight.

Whoever took Darry is still out there.

And I'm not letting them take another one of my kids.

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**Well, it's been a while since I've updated this story, I know. **

**This is where it shows two years after Darry's kidnapping and Ponyboy on the way. Darry's POV might come in the next chapter (thanks to DarryHasAFutureAndI'mInIt for her idea!). **

**Review please!**


	3. Memories and Dreams

**Been a while, huh? Well, here's the update of Unknown Reality! At last right? Review please!**

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_11 years after the kidnapping/ Present time_

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"W-Where's Momma?"

The lady didn't answer, but continued walking, gripping my arm tightly. I tried to pull my arm away, but she had me in an iron-grip. I whimpered and pulled harder. I didn't like this. I wanted to go back to Momma. Where's my mom?

"Lemme go!" I cried, digging my heels into the hard sidewalk, using my other hand to try and pull her hand off mine. She didn't let go; instead her grip tightened and she yanked me forward, causing me to stumble some.

I was crying by now, unwillingly letting her pull me farther and farther away from Mom and Daddy. Even my three-year-old mind knew that there was nothing I could do...

...

"Go on, git, you worthless piece of shit," Father growled, shoving me out the front door, sending a kick to the back of my knee in the process. I fell forward, stumbling on the porch and down the stairs. I regained my balance as quickly as I could and bolted down the walk, past the wired fence just in time to dodge a jagged beer bottle thrown in my direction. I continued to run as Father shouted insults at my back, cursing and screaming. I ran until I couldn't hear him anymore, and I kept running...

...

My eyes shot open, and I sat up in a cold sweat, panting as though I had actually ran a mile or two, like in my dream. I swallowed hard and let out a few more gasps to slow my breathing down, and slowly lowered my head back onto the pillow, closing my eyes.

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"Now I'm tellin' you, boy, if there is one smudge on that floor after you're done cleanin' it, you won' get a scrap of food tonight," Father threatened. I blinked and continued to wipe the wooden kitchen floor as Father sat there in his armchair, looking down at me. I can just imagine the look of loathing in his piercing eyes. God knows I have seen it plenty of times.

If there is a God.

Keeping my eyes on the floor, I continued to clean it as Father requested. No... demanded. I ignored my splintered hands and fingers as they stung while I dragged that thin piece of clothing Father had provided for me. I guess he knew I was going to suffer, even when I'm doing a simple chore.

I didn't care much. I liked to take the little time when Father wasn't critizing me to daydream about how normal life would be if I had had any other parents. My mother had run out on us one early Sunday morning when I was about six. Just got up and left, apparently having just about enough of me and Father. Even though he hated her, he would not stop blaming me for her departure. It had been this way for as long as I can remember. Normal parents wouldn't do this to their children. Normal parents would cherish their kids, loving for them, caring for them. Something I had to live without my entire life.

I pictured my parents as the perfect mother and father. My mom would care for me, comfort when I'm upset or sick. My dad would toss a football around with me every once in a while. Hell, maybe I could've had a few brothers or sisters. They would be younger than me, and I would take care of them... My parents would take care of me...

I was startled out of my daydream by a sudden wet shock that spilled itself onto my lap and on my face. Sputtering and spitting out the soapy water that managed to spash into my mouth, I looked at the bucket. I saw what had happened; I hadn't been paying attention to what I was doing and ended up leaning on the rim of the bucket, causing it to spill over. Father looked up and got a very ugly look on his face.

Shit.

If I got a beating just because I forgot to turn off the television for my father last week, I didn't want to know what I would get for this.

So what did I do? I ran.

I quickly scrambled to my feet and turned to run, nearly slipping on the fallen water in my rush. I heard Father stand up.

"C'mere, you little shit! Where d'ya think you're goin'?" I bolted out of the kitchen, running toward the freedom of the world outside this house. I heard Father move behind me, and I quickly shoved past the old screen door and nearly fell down the stairs in my desperation of escaping. The hard footsteps stopped on the wooden porch and I could hear Father yelling and cursing at me, threatening me to ever come home and see what he's going to do.

I didn't listen though. I just ran.


End file.
